


After the Rejection

by Nomanono, Sintina



Series: Voyage à Trois [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Docking, Gratuitous Smut, Hot Tub Sex, Ice Play, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-05 15:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11016084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomanono/pseuds/Nomanono, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintina/pseuds/Sintina
Summary: Chris got dumped."So much for our vacation," he mourned.Victor and Yuuri would not accept this. They weren't giving up a birthday celebration at the very best Swiss resort just because his ex turned out to be a stunning asshole.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We had so much fun with [After the Reception](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10638684) that we had to do a sequel. Chris deserves the love, and Yuuri and Victor are happy to give it. We also created a little mini-series for these two works (and whatever's to come!): [Voyage a Trois](http://archiveofourown.org/series/734772)! Oooh, fancy!
> 
> Of course, you can see a bit of a Chris cameo down the road in their relationship in [Chapter 22](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9124666/chapters/24392106) of [A Different Kind of Coaching](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9124666).
> 
> If you're STILL HUNGRY after that check out the [S4 collection](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Silly_Sweet_Serious_Sexy) for the full timeline :)

“Wake up beautifuls!” Victor crooned. His melodic voice elicited no response from the lumps in the oversized bed, so he grabbed one dense, black-out curtain in each hand and flung them both open.  
   
Blazing white sunrise, extra bright due to its reflection off the banks of glistening snow outside, stabbed into Chris and Yuuri’s eyelids.  
   
Yuuri rolled over, hissing like an overheated, steaming engine. He buried his face in his pillow and curled the sides of it up to cover his ears.  
   
Chris cloaked his eyes in the crook of his elbow and groaned a complaint.  
   
This was not how he’d planned to spend his birthday.  
   
\--------  
   
_Guys… I have bad news…_ he’d texted Yuuri and Victor last week in their group chat. Even before he shared, they knew what had happened. That morning, Andre had removed himself from the thread and blocked all of them.  
   
_Oh no! Mon ami, are you okay???_ Victor responded before Chris had to admit to the breakup.  
   
They’d all been planning to get together for a long weekend in Switzerland over Chris’ birthday. Victor and Yuuri wanted to meet the man that had been taking up so much of Chris’ time, not to mention desperately needing to blow off steam between competitions. That, and there had been allusions to wild debauchery - Chris’ speciality - which Victor and Yuuri were also more than keen for.  
   
_So much for our vacation_ , Chris mourned.  
   
_What?! As if we would let you spend your birthday alone!_ Victor texted. _We’ll see you there <3_  
   
The resort they’d chosen was the best of the best: the perfect combination of renowned food, decadent entertainment, and more adventurous activities than anyone would ever need. Nestled amongst the Alps, it mixed traditional wooden architecture with sexy glass and minimalist modernity. The particular bungalow cabin they’d rented included its own whirling hot tub veranda, towering lofted living room with a roaring fireplace, private sauna _and_ wine cellar -- all easily within range of resort service.  
   
There was no way they were giving that up just because Andre turned out to be a stunning asshole.  
   
\----------------------  
   
When his friends arrived, Chris had no plans whatsoever. He didn’t know how to salvage the kinky, sexy, celebratory foursome weekend they all wanted. Plus, they were down to three. And he felt like shit, because, once again, he was the third wheel.  
   
Victor swooped in like a silver falcon and saved the day. The married couple barely had their bags set down next to the door before Victor was whisking everyone away to an Intro to Snowboarding class, then home to change for a fancy afternoon cheese fondue and wine-tasting with just enough time to sober up before sunset skiing. After that, a succulent steakhouse dinner ending with a resort-sponsored hangout event around a fire with smores and spiked apple cider.  
   
Between the alcohol and endless activities, they were asleep within minutes of getting back to the bungalow.  
   
And that felt like just a few hours ago. To put it bluntly, Chris was exhausted. Moreso when Victor sang:  
   
“Get dressed! We’ve got one hour before the helicopter tour and I want to hit that Swiss breakfast buffet. We’ll need a ton of calories because we’re skiing the bunny slope after we get off the tour! Come, come! Up, up!” He began to pull the comforter from the bed and that was the last straw.  
   
Chris bunched his fists in the fabric and proved to Victor how much stronger he was by tugging it from the Russian’s clingy hands. “You do realize it’s _my_ birthday, right?” 

“Yes!” Victor laughed, the comforter forgotten. “That’s why you get _two_ dozen roses,” which he immediately produced from behind the end table on Chris’ side of the bed. He presented them with flourish and overtook the table completely when he stood the vase in its center.  “One because you’re our Valentine and one because you’re the birthday boy!”  
   
Chris envisioned the vase tipping over and soaking his cell phone and charger. He was quick to disconnect them both from the outlet in the base of the lamp and secure them under his pillow.  
   
“They’re… gorgeous, baby bee…” he whispered into a smile. “But…” Victor didn’t seem to hear him as he danced around to the other side of the bed.  
   
Yuuri smelled his own roses, even through the pillow, before he weakly raised his chin to peek. Victor pulled out a multi-color dozen, each one different and unique. Yuuri could never pick his favorite color and always loved variety. He gave Victor a sleepy smile and muttered to him as though Chris wasn’t _right there_ next to them:  
   
“Shouldn’t you let Chris set today’s itinerary?”  
   
Victor’s eyes shot up to his old friend and renewed lover. “We’ve got a lot to do! I set all this up so you don’t sit around and mope. I didn’t want you to focus on the breakup all weekend.”  
   
“What if I’d rather focus on the two of you, hmm?” Chris rolled onto his side and draped an arm over Yuuri’s midsection. “That sounds like more fun than running around and getting too exhausted to fuck by the end of the day...”  
   
Yuuri winced. Chris had a point. They’d all crashed so hard when they finally got back to the cabin last night. Naked and exhausted, sure, but not from sexual exertion. He had to admit, he was kind of thirsty for it. Worse so, since he could feel Chris’ morning wood resting comfortably behind his ass cheeks while that arm on his waist felt a little too close to a grip for leverage.  
   
But Yuuri was facing his husband, who knelt down beside the bed, practically begging Yuuri with his eyes to take the initiative and get up first. He saw a flicker of disappointment behind those exuberant irises. Victor bit his lip when he noticed Yuuri noticing.  
   
Their Russian wasn’t successful at removing the pout from his voice: “But! The bunny slopes... we’ve got reservations already. There was a deposit.”  
   
“If I pay you back, will you let me call it a Valentine’s present?” Chris groaned, ducking his nose into the back of Yuuri’s neck.  
   
Victor was no less effective at hiding his frown than he had been with his pout. “But…We - we could still make the helicopter tour if we leave now.”  
   
“Vicchan,” Yuuri tried to sooth, reaching for his husband. “Come to bed.”  
   
But Victor simply flumped his face into the comforter, hands hugging the back of his head.  
   
Yuuri kissed the exposed crown of his lover’s skull, breathing heavy through his nose into Victor’s scalp. Yuuri felt him shiver and smiled into his hair. “You’ve been going nonstop for like a week,” he whispered. “Let Chris take the wheel for today?”  
   
“A week, Victor?” Chris asked from behind them. “Really? You didn’t have to do all this. It’s like you took Andre’s departure worse than I did!”  
   
Yuuri nuzzled his shoulders into Chris’ chest. “He really may have.”  
   
Chris’ arm moved from Yuuri’s waist. He reached a hand over to clasp one of Victor’s, which made the Russian look up.  
   
“How long have you been awake?” Chris asked.  
   
Victor’s eyes cut to the side. He looked out the blindingly bright window, tried to gauge the hours from the daylight.  
   
“Eh…?” He couldn’t venture to guess.  
   
“That’s our answer right there.” Chris combed his fingers through Victor’s hair from his temple to tuck strands behind his friend’s ear. “Where’s your phone? Your calendar’s probably filled to the brim, isn’t it?” Chris kept up his loving petting. “Let me delete those, and we can cancel the morning reservations. We’ll just… play today by ear, hm?”  
   
Victor moaned, but was clearly defeated. He withdrew his phone from his back pants pocket and handed it to Chris.  
   
While the Swiss made the necessary calls, Yuuri went about stripping Victor and making a comfy spot for him in the middle of the bed, under the covers with he and Chris.  
   
Once Victor was all snuggled and settled - if still pouting - Yuuri got up to close out the accursed sunlight. Everyone breathed a sigh of comfort as their eyes readjusted to the blissful dimness. Even Victor, who leaned into Chris’ continued petting of his hair, neck, and shoulders. Yuuri smiled to see Victor relaxing a little, at last, and crawled his way up to join him on the opposite side of Chris. Victor’s head rested on Chris’ chest and his eyes were closed. Yuuri kissed each eyelid, making Victor twitch and smirk.  
   
He opened his eyes, surprised by how little difference there was from having them shut. The room was dark. Light still crept in at the edges of the curtains, but overall, the shadow was all-encompassing and peaceful. It was a truly comfortable feeling, especially coupled with Yuuri leaning over Chris to kiss soft and chaste around his ear and cheek.  
   
“Now… first things first,” Chris said, sagely, one arm around Yuuri, the other around Victor.  
   
“Yes?” Victor piqued.  
   
“I’m going back to sleep.”  
   
\-----  
   
Take two of the morning happened some unknown number of hours later, the only alarm being Chris’ stomach, as both Yuuri and Victor were pillowed atop it and in prime location to hear its rumbling displeasure at remaining empty.  
“ _Dent de lion!_ You’re roaring!” Victor murmured as he perked up. He reached for his phone, only to realize that Chris had hidden it somewhere after making his phone calls. Probably for the best. Chris was slowly waking again, hugging both men to his chest.  
   
“Mmm…”  
   
“There’s a patisserie at the lodge that has breakfast service all day, or that dîner cafe, or we could go to --” Victor started.  
   
“Baby bee,” Chris cut him off, “this is _exactly_ what room service is for.”  
   
“Room service?!”  
   
“Victor,” Yuuri soothed, “don’t you want to stay in bed… with us…?”  
   
As Yuuri said it he lifted his eyebrow and tilted his head, probably attempting to be alluring, but Victor was blinded by his prior planning. He glanced to the window, all the promise of the outside world distracting him.  
   
“Chrissu,” Yuuri cooed, catching Victor’s cheek and drawing his attention again, “has exactly the right idea.” And with another pointed look at Victor, Yuuri brought his lips to Chris’ shoulder, laying several spritely kisses across his skin.  
   
“Let me order that food, _mon capitain,_ ” Chris disentangled himself enough to get his phone from under the pillow, “and I’ll be right there with you.” He sat up straighter, back against the headboard, as he spoke in rapid Swiss-French.  
   
Yuuri listened quietly, contenting himself to swirl his fingers around Chris’ hungry tummy. Victor muttered some request in his own French and Chris nodded, a slow bob of his head. He seemed to interrupt the speaker on the other end to add what Victor asked for. Yuuri liked the kissable movement of Victor’s lips forming French words. Victor was paying attention to Chris, so his husband leaned over and stole a moist peck.  
   
Victor turned to him, surprised, and smirked. “I ordered you some fresh fruit,” he whispered.  
   
Yuuri kissed him again. Thank goodness. He couldn’t handle the dense richness of Swiss creams, meats, and cheeses three meals in a row. He might bloat out of his skin.  
   
This accomplished, Yuuri gave a little tug on Chris’ hip, trying to coax him back beneath the cocoon of comforter and quilt.  
   
“I might be too hungry to wait,” Yuuri curled his tongue up against his lip as he spoke, promising eyes in Chris’ direction.  
   
“We can’t have that, _mon capitain._ ” Chris scooched himself down, wiggling back under the covers, hands grazing down the bodies of each of his partners.     
   
“You might be in luck, Yuuri,” Victor smiled, perky enough that his earlier poutiness was fully evaporated. “I believe Chris prepared us breakfast in bed. Authentic Swiss sausage, on the menu, right?”  
   
“Fresh and organic,” Chris smirked. “Isn’t that what they’re calling it now?” As he spoke, that thick hand and its long fingers curved around Yuuri’s cheek, down his jaw to brush his throat.  
   
Yuuri arched into Chris’ meaty side and began kissing his way down Chris’ chest, encouraged by Victor’s hand caressing him from rib to hip.  
   
“You should know, Victor, I might be too hungry to share,” Yuuri murmured into the freshly waxed expanse of skin beneath Chris’ navel, that wonderful stretch of not-quite-abs that guided him down to his prize.  
   
“You enjoy yourself, my love,” Victor encouraged, fingers tangling in Yuuri’s hair, squeezing encouragement, and then releasing. “I’ll satisfy myself with a different kind of sweet.”  
   
He kept his fingers whisper-scritching along the back of Yuuri’s neck, feeling the lift and then rhythmic motions as Yuuri started to kiss and lave his tongue along Chris’ already hardened cock.  
   
“Oh… yes…” Chris exhaled. “ _That’s_ more like it. Exactly how to start a happy birthday.” He twisted to gaze at Victor, who promptly caught Chris’ lips in his own.  
   
“ _Joyeux anniversaire à toi mon ami_ ,” Victor whispered.  
   
“ _Merci, mon chou, mon amour, mon bébé abielle_ ,” Chris purred right back, sliding his hips up so his cock could slip into Yuuri’s mouth, over that soft sweet tongue, at the same time as he deepened his kiss with Victor.  
   
How lucky he was, to have lovers like these, _again_. Once had been incredible. He’d never asked for more. That they offered themselves again meant Valentine must truly have been a saint, and Chris blessed to be born on his day.  
   
When Victor’s neck started to cramp from the angle, he swung a leg carefully over both Chris and Yuuri, straddling the Swiss skater to better share their kiss. It let his cock bounce along Chris’ belly, leaving tiny salty smudges as it throbbed, while offering Yuuri a suspended picture of Victor’s impressively muscled ass.  
   
It was such a fantastic view, the expanse of Victor’s hard cheeks resting inches from the dense dessert of Chris’ impeccable cock. Yuuri didn’t know which to enjoy, so he decided on both. Parting Victor’s cheeks with his tongue, and loving the way Victor jumped, he licked his way until his chin hit the tip of Chris and then he moved back just enough to continue one long lick from the edge of Victor’s hole to the dip of Chris’ taint and back up again. The beautiful blend of distinct flavors, two halves of sex commingled on his tongue, was unlike anything he’d ever done. The experience ignited his lust, a dark need sparking between his legs.  
   
Victor’s hips began moving with Yuuri’s long licks. In answer, Yuuri’s mouth guided Chris’ cock between those firm cheeks. As Yuuri moved from Victor to Chris, his husband would grind forward, away from Chris’ dick, then press back into the length when Yuuri’s tongue returned. This back and forth soon glistened both the runway and the smooth shaft of the plane requesting permission to land.  
   
“Do you remember the rule, Chrissu?” Yuuri asked, voice vibrating the tightened sack beneath his lips.  
   
“Rule?” Chris swallowed, eyes rolling back at their duel attentions, Victor mouthing his neck.    
   
“About my husband,” Yuuri said, licking the tip of his tongue pointedly around the ridge of Chris’ cock head. He wasn’t sure whether Chris’ groan was in response to his words or his actions.  
   
“No coming,” Chris repeated. “Not inside him, at least.”  
   
“Mmm,” Yuuri nodded.  
   
Another long, slow lick for them to share.    
   
“Can I, Yuuri?” Chris asked, following his tongue, sluicing up between Victor’s cheeks.  
   
“Let him in me, Yuuri, please?” Victor cooed down, cheeks flush with need, balloon-knot puckering when his lips found it again. Yuuri’s childhood hero begging permission to get fucked?    
   
Yuuri swooned.  
   
In response, he tugged Victor’s hips to the proper angle and used the flat of his tongue to push Chris’ cock towards its target. He left his tongue there, half on Victor’s asshole as it started to cave inward, then stretch open, and half on Chris’ slowly invading flesh.  
   
His tongue slid lower as Chris gently thrust inside, slow and torturous as was his way. Yuuri liked the stalling, halting progression this time, because he could lick down the shaft, chasing it with his mouth as it sunk into his husband. When he reached the end, when his lovers were fully joined, he slid down onto his belly between Chris’ legs. There, Yuuri feasted on Chris’ engorged scrotum with greater thirst than he’d expressed in his earlier efforts. He appreciated the groan and quiver that emanated from the birthday boy. Victor chuckled at their bedmate and rolled his hips, a hand coming down and behind himself to clutch Yuuri’s hair and encourage him onward.  
   
As Chris bent his legs and put his feet flat on the bed - better leverage as he kept up his slow, deep assault on Victor’s ass - it exposed his own ass. Yuuri’s tongue was busy in the little micro-grooves of Chris’ sac, teasing over the texture, letting his mouth and nose fill with the foggy aroma of sex and faint citrus from the resort’s custom body wash. But he couldn’t resist that promising bronzed crinkle for long. His tongue strokes lengthened, dragging from Chris’ taint up over his balls, only narrowly avoiding the shaft that was digging out Victor’s darkest scents.  
   
Yuuri could have wallowed there for hours.    
   
But instead he brought his tongue back down, fed the tip against and slightly into Chris’ ass, making the skater lurch into Victor with another surprised moan.  
   
Up against Chris’ neck, Victor smirked, only imagining what wonders his husband was working on their lover.  
   
“ _Merde, mon capitain_ ,” Chris choked.  
   
With that encouragement, Yuuri accelerated his attentions, lapping over and over that muscle like he could tenderize it with his tongue. He felt it flutter and pulse, felt the tightness of Chris’ ass against his jaw with every thrust into Victor.  
   
Chris was really starting to jackhammer. Yuuri underestimated how much the Swiss had enjoyed his little tongue-fuck.  
   
The collective bubbling pleasure of their union was starting to come to a boil, all three of them a mosaic of moans and matching undulations (Yuuri couldn’t help but grind against the comforter and, when that was useless, lower a hand to grip and tug at himself.)  
   
A sharp knock sounded on the door.  
   
All three jumped, but it was Yuuri who, completely red-faced, tossed the blanket over Chris and Victor’s still joined bodies (still slowly _thrusting_ bodies like they couldn’t possibly get enough of each other) and haphazardly wrapped a towel around his waist to go answer the door. Not that it did anything to hide his hardness, tenting the material.  
   
But these were professionals. A cart pushed through the doorway, stacked with silver half-spheres giving off a rather different set of smells than the two bodies finally still and hidden beneath the sheets. Yuuri’s stomach fluttered in desire, almost enough to overcome his mortification. When the hotel staff had wished them a pleasant stay and finally left, Yuuri wheeled the cart over to the bed.  
   
He pulled back the covers, revealing Chris thrusting again into Victor, Victor lying atop him with this blissful grin.  
   
“Breakfast, lovers,” Yuuri announced.  
   
“Almost there,” Chris groaned. Yuuri smirked.  
   
“Victor. Get off of him and use your hands so he can come.”  
   
His husband whined but did as he was told. Yuuri handed him the lube and the sound from beneath the sheets became somehow more obscene than a few moments ago. His stomach growled for the scent of the food, but his mouth salivated to be filled with a plump cock instead.  
   
Chris’ chin craned to the ceiling, breath jarring from his lungs, both of his fists unfurled and fingers searched for something, anything. Yuuri leaned over and took one of Chris’ hands, stroking and massaging his thumb and knuckles through the pleasure when it finally hit.  
   
Yuuri relished the sight of Chris’ face as he came, rosy cheeked, long fluttering lashes, lips swollen to a new level of plushness, jaw hanging open, offering a view of the moist red cavern of his mouth.  
   
“Wow.” Yuuri breathed and squeezed his friend’s digits tight. “How have I never seen your oh-face, handsome?”  
   
Victor slid out from under the sheets, sticky palms tucked out of the way though he nudged his husband’s shoulder with his wrist as he passed, “Probably because you were behind him, last time.” He winked and strutted to the bathroom to wash his hands.  
   
The room service spread included two pitchers, one of ice water and one of orange juice. Victor wasted no time filling two glasses upon return. His Adam’s apple bobbed in waves as he drank down an entire glass of water first, before pouring another and bringing it to the bed.    
   
“Hydration and hygiene, hmm love?” Yuuri teased.  
   
“And don’t you dare offer to _help_ ,” Victor eyed his two lovers, remembering all too well the chilling splash of water between his cheeks at the reception. Just to be safe, he sat down on his knees, buttocks tucked safely away from any and all sources of icy liquid. Chris and Yuuri shared a chuckle at his expense, but it was swiftly muffled by the sound of starving athletes stuffing their faces.  
   
“So,” Victor asked once he was sated with food, “is your birthday wish to stay in bed all day?”  
   
Chris nodded, mouth full of Bűndnernusstorte, his favorite dessert. Though not as perfect as the bakery close to his home, it would do.  
   
“Granted!” Victor beamed.  
   
Yuuri saddled closer, walking on his knees, cock at attention. “Hey! He doesn’t get his wish if he doesn’t blow out his candles!” And he flexed his dick so it jumped and begged for attention.  
   
“Really, _capitain_?” Chris pouted. “On a full stomach, you can’t expect a proper job.”  
   
Disappointed, but undeterred, Yuuri took both of Chris’ hands in his own and guided them to the twin candles presented by he and his husband. Victor, ever helpful, rummaged under the covers and retrieved the lube, drizzling it like icing over both Swiss rolls formed by Chris’ fists.  
   
The birthday boy’s lips pursed into a slutty smile. He ducked his chin, looking at both of them through his lashes. Damn his innate sexuality, both cocks twitched for that mouth. Their beef cake’s first wet tandem strokes were enough to drench their heads in bubbling, oozing precum. His grip fluctuated, fingers palpitated, wrist rotated, with smooth, calculated tenderness and just the right amount of firm strength.  
   
Yuuri’s body shuddered from his shoulders to his knees, and he pressed his ass into the sheets on a slow grind that moved with his friend’s fist.  
   
Victor, always on display, grit his teeth and straightened his spine from coxis to skull before letting his chin roll slowly toward the ceiling on a torturous exhale.      
   
The man who held their pleasure watched their reactions with blatant, sensuous satisfaction. His strokes increased their tempo, feeling the pair out, knowing the veins pulsed with nearness to completion. As he watched, pelvic muscles tightened, hips bucked for him. He saw each set of eyes look to him, begging, and he flexed his chest, his arms and shoulders, in a ripple of strength that reached his hands. The pressure of his palms pulsed and his thumbs rolled happy circles around each of their heads, through their slits.  
   
It wasn’t quite simultaneous.  
   
Yuuri went first: his body arching back, hands landing far behind him on the bed. That long, lean torso undulated as his first spurts shot into the air, hitting Chris’ chest, then went taut like a bowstring as his release intensified.  
   
Chris lowered his face into the line of fire.  
   
That did it for Victor. His first tendril stuck to Chris’ cheekbone and he began to aim for those soft pillowy lips. Chris smirked and then puckered for what looked like a kiss, but turned the expression into his mimicry of blowing out the candles, whistling a gentle breath of air over both glistening wicks.  
   
Victor’s eyes went hazy and dark when Chris straightened, his well-toned body and beautiful face striped in semen. He hummed at the sight, mouth going wet with craving.    
   
Yuuri noticed, looking from his husband to their splattered friend. “You know Chris,” Yuuri smiled, taking the Swiss hand in his own and kissing the peak of one miraculously lube-free knuckle, “how much Victor loves this sort of icing.”  
   
The silver coif leaned forward, tongue slipping out between parched lips.  
   
“What were you saying about cleanliness earlier, _mon ami_?” Victor asked just before his mouth connected with the thickest coil of ejaculate, clinging to Chris’ ribs. The birthday boy seized up as Victor slurped and suckled one of his ticklish spots, cleaning it of cum and sending chills down his legs.  
   
Yuuri pressed Chris’ hand to the bed, pushing their lover backward. Victor followed suit. Soon they had him pinned down, showered in attention, wiggling their little tongues all over his body.  
   
Chris writhed beneath their tickling, scintillating tongue bath. But while he could easily escape one of them, he felt overpowered by both their strength, a rare sensation. Usually, it took actual restraints to keep Giacometti down, but two professional world class athletes seemed to do the trick. And he loved the realization that he was at their mercy. His girth expanded, began to swell up, reaching for them.       
   
Yuuri was the first to notice, looking longingly at the growing tool. Used at it was, it was hardly an acceptable treat, and now that his mouth had gotten started, it wanted everything.  
   
“I think,” Yuuri said, watching Victor’s tongue curve over Chris’ cheek bone, feeling Chris’ muscles struggle against his hold, “it’s time to try that hot tub.” When Victor looked at him, confused as to why they’d stop adoring their birthday boy, Yuuri simply tipped his head towards the proud, arching cock and licked his lips.  
   
Victor’s mouth widened into an ‘oh’ of realization, but he couldn’t get up without first crushing his lips to Chris’, and Chris was all too eager to taste the lingering tang of his lovers on Victor’s tongue.  
   
The trip out onto the balcony, wrapped in towels which amounted to sheer silks against the pristine, frigid air of the Alps, was a unique torture. Clouds had overrun the sun, which, while nicer on their eyes, was hardly kind to their skin. Sinking into the hot tub, water almost painfully hot compared to that chill, toes tingling as they adjusted, was the commensurate heaven.  
   
“Victor! What are you waiting for?!” Yuuri called over his shoulder, confused as to his husband’s lingering attention just outside the door. He saw a flash of neon color and heard a crunch of snow. There was a decidedly guilty expression on Victor’s face, but his husband was too distracted by Chris to bother him about it.  
   
Yuuri leaned into the crook of Chris’ arm, gazing out at the alpine slopes and treeless, glacial peaks, glowing despite the overcast weather. Victor hopped into the tub not a moment later, complete with his normal temperature-related theatrics, and almost instantly adopted his place as Yuuri’s mirror - snuggled into Chris’ other side.  
   
“This is… quite the birthday,” Chris mused, damp hands playing over both their bodies, squeezing in a half hug. Their libidos had taken a temporary respite in the face of such natural beauty, even if Victor could never go long without sexual attention when everyone was so very naked around him. The juxtaposition of below-freezing air and the roiling heat of the tub, the soft tumble of water in an otherwise cotton-silent snowscape, was magical and serene enough to occupy their attention for timeless moments.  
   
“We do have a problem,” Yuuri decided, finally, as his digits started to pucker with wrinkles from the water.  
   
“Eh?” Victor looked at his husband, eyes filled with concern.  
   
“How am I supposed to enjoy our delicious Swiss dessert, with all this water in the way?” Yuuri huffed.  
   
“The greatest tragedy, _mon capitain_ ,” Chris mused. “You can have me dirty and dry, or wet and clean.”  
   
Yuuri huffed, not amused. 

“How about this?” Chris reached under, almost coddling, the pouty young skater. With one strong gesture, he hoisted him over his lap. Victor scooted to the side on their bench, but not out of Chris’ embrace. Yuuri’s knee slid into the space his husband made for him, comfortably locked around Chris’ hips. “Much better, _non_?” Chris purred, cupping Yuuri’s cheeks.  
   
“But --” Yuuri began, only to be cut off by the press of Chris’ lips, just as hot and wet as the bubbling water around them.  
   
“You’ll have to settle for this treat, at least for awhile,” Chris apologized, the last words before he swallowed Yuuri’s breath.  
   
Victor was not convinced. He watched for a moment, fingers on his chin in deep contemplation. Had Chris seen him, the expression would have sent a lance of terror down his spine. But Victor was not quite so oblivious and inexperienced as he had been before, and when he reached between them, carefully grabbing a cock in each hand, Chris didn’t even think to be afraid.  
   
“Hnnn,” Yuuri whined when the strokes began. This was not going to be enough. Had they not already all come today with handjobs? He bucked, frustrated, at Victor’s attentions, like his husband was in the way, but that didn’t stop his flesh from hardening.  
   
“Shhh,” Victor whispered, though no one could hear him above the bubbles. His fingers moved to their tips, collecting and playing with that soft extra skin. He peeled it back enough to swirl the tangy chlorinated water into the hidden creases. Both of them paused as they felt Victor slide Chris’ skin back over the head of his cock, and then, tantalizing, a blur of sensation amongst the jets, over the head of Yuuri’s cock as well.  
   
Chris made a noise neither of them had heard yet today and his glutes tightened so they both felt the pressure in his thighs as his seat on the bench adjusted, body tensing everything he had into his groin. He grit his teeth, but dared not move much more; the grip Victor had on their conjoined manhoods felt tenuous at best. He looked at his Baby Bee, eyes telling him to take control of this, as Chris might just fuck his husband like a mechanical bull if Victor would let him.  
   
Luxuriating in the expressions on his lovers’ faces, Victor held the skin pinched behind Yuuri’s cock head, both glowing mushrooms trapped in that cocoon of flesh. His other hand went to Yuuri’s ass, squeezed it, and then guided it to thrust - slowly, carefully - into the delicate home made of Chris’ foreskin.  
   
Yuuri should have known better than to assume his husband didn’t have a surprise up his sleeve.  
   
He didn’t have to be told twice. He just needed to find the right strength with which to thrust and keep them all connected. First, he tried a sweet, gentle grind of his hips. The slit of his cock smooshed into Chris’ and his hips clenched, causing another involuntary sort of twitching thrust. Victor’s grip responded, just in time, keeping them together perfectly. Yuuri’s confidence ballooned at his husband’s attentiveness and he felt safe enough to surge forward, letting the strange envelope of skin, fingers, and cock engulf him as hard as he wanted.  
   
Victor played with the sensitive nerves inside the pocket of skin, squeezing the combined heads, gliding his fingers up and down the sheath. He worked the glove over them both, but always ensured it stayed snug and secure. Chris had to lift his arms up over his head, hands fisting in his own hair, to keep himself from grabbing Yuuri like a mechanical bull and annihilating him. And even then, he realized as he clawed his scalp, he might not make it - he might have to come inside _someone_ , and soon.  
   
Yuuri wasn’t doing much better. He wanted to fuck or get fucked. His hips were not responding to Victor’s manipulations any longer, they were bucking into Chris. God, the Swiss’ restraint! The mountain was unmoved. Somehow that concrete foundation beneath Yuuri’s hips, and all the promise of the rolling strength still unearthed, made Yuuri crave the power to move continents. He plowed like he could excavate Chris’ energy. Still, it was not enough, because he wasn’t actually gaining any depth. Though the peel and tug of foreskin, the pressing of heads, the palpation of Victor’s fingers, was all intoxicating, he was struggling.  
   
“I can’t,” Yuuri cursed. Can’t quite get enough. Can’t reach that tipping point. Can’t believe how overpowering that need is.  
   
“Yes you can,” Chris broke what felt like an endless silence. His hands dropped to the coupling beneath the water. “Thank you, Baby Bee,” he cooed, and gave Victor a quick peck on the lips.  
   
He slid Victor’s hand away, grasping Yuuri instead at the same time as he shifted his hips forward on the ledge. Yuuri held on, only realizing Chris’ intention when the Swiss’ legs started to widen, and Yuuri was forced to lift his knees away, over Chris’ legs, until he was between them. Chris tugged Yuuri’s cock like a leash, guiding him back in close, and stretched one leg all the way out of the water as he tucked Yuuri into place against his ass.  
   
Granted, chlorine wasn’t the best thing to have in one’s ass, the chemical smell definitely didn’t help, but Yuuri looked about as murderous as Chris felt. They needed _something_ , and Chris wanted to feel that wrath in full.  
   
All it took was the dimpling of Chris’ ass to incite Yuuri. He pushed against that weak point in Chris’ body, that vulnerable indentation, and they locked eyes as Yuuri passed that first barrier and hit against the tighter internal one.  
   
Chris could see the painful restraint in Yuuri’s eyes, in the way his nails bit into Chris’ leg, in the clench of his jaw.  
   
“Yuuri,” Chris growled. “Let go. Don’t hold back.”  
   
Victor hummed agreement. “It’s his birthday, Yuuri. Give him what he wants.”  He knew that feral look in Yuuri’s eyes, when he was so worked up without release. Almost subconsciously, he found himself sliding away from the couple to give them room. Victor knew exactly what Chris was in for.  
   
And then Yuuri let him have it.  
   
There was a moment, on that very first thrust, that first release of compacted energy, that Chris wondered if he’d made a mistake. And then he simply couldn’t think at all.  
   
The harsh suck of frigid air down his throat and the hot roil of jettisoned water all around, pillowing in wooshes of bubbles at their joining, made this feel otherworldly. There was a light-headedness that came seizing up his neck and behind his eyes. His dick would feel raw from the docking but for the hot hug of liquid caressing his entire package up against Yuuri’s abdomen on each disastrous thrust. He craned his neck to rest his head on the tub’s rim, then rolled his face to gaze, sex drunk, at his old friend. Victor grinned at Chris’ dreamy countenance, wobbling like a bobble head with his husband’s driving, rapid fuck.    
   
Victor didn’t even notice the snow until little flakes started accumulating, like crystals, on his husband’s dark hair. He looked fae-like, only not the pristine, graceful sort of storybook fae. Yuuri embodied the vengeful and dangerous kind, filled with powers unknown - powers currently fucking the shit out of poor, beautiful Chris.  
   
Not that he seemed to be objecting. Their Valentine took Yuuri like such a damn champ. In fact, Yuuri was starting to get some of those rich, throaty moans out of the Swiss skater - always an accomplishment. Chris had lifted his other leg out of the water, toes pointing to the sky over Yuuri’s shoulders, neck submerged and hands bracing himself on the bench to withstand this onslaught. He wasn’t even sure he could come like this; it was enough just to survive and endure Yuuri’s savage attack.  
   
And it wasn’t showing signs of stopping.  
   
Victor was still soft from coming, didn’t have the rapid-fire ability of his spouse to harden up again after a half hour. He couldn’t have taken Yuuri if he wanted to - and wasn’t sure the bucking stallion would even hold still long enough to be mounted. Not at his current pace.  
   
He thought perhaps the best solution would be for the pair to switch places, Chris to finish them both off by taking Yuuri. He placed his hand on his husband’s rocking shoulder, only to have Yuri turn and bare his teeth, eyes unfocused.  
   
“Need this,” Yuuri gasped, folding Chris tighter in half, hating the water for how it slowed him down, loving the warmth as the snow picked up, pricking their skin with frosty kisses. “Need--”  
   
Those snowflakes melted in Yuuri’s mouth as he tilted his head back, groaning. Chris brought a hand around Yuuri’s waist, starting to feel the burn of the fuck, raw and angry.  
   
“Come on, Yuuri,” Chris groaned. “Come in me. I need you to come.”  
   
Yuuri’s eyes snapped to Chris, and Chris, who remembered how much Yuuri loved the dirty talk and encouragement during, continued.  
   
“Look at you go,” and between each exhale of words, he coughed out breath on a thrust, “I’ve had birthday sex, uhhnnn, and hot tub sex,” his mouth fell open and snowflakes landed on his tongue. He swallowed them, thankful for the moisture, “I’ve had you pound me into a mattress, but…” he inhaled heavy and his head dipped wholly underwater.  
   
Victor gasped. He involuntarily reached for the fallow hair below the shimmery swirls, but Yuuri lifted his arm to bar him.  
   
Yuuri groaned and thrust Chris back above the surface as he came, shuddering with a silent scream.  
   
Victor, his heart racing from that display, kissed Chris’ flushed cheeks. A bit of fear tickled the Russian’s belly from the sudden disappearance, but Chris just swiped a hand down his soaked face, curls sogged adorably at his temples, and made the most gratified, guttural noise in his throat.  
   
Yuuri slid down into the center of the tub as he disengaged, away from the benches, hovering with his ears beneath the water. He closed his eyes and let the falling snow cool his sweaty pores and soothe his cracking lips.  
   
“ _Merde_ ,” Chris finally chuckled, breathless. “Yuuri. Wow.”  
   
“Wow,” Victor agreed, snuggling up to Chris, watching their Japanese lover float weightlessly in the center of the tub.  
   
Yuuri couldn’t hear or see anything. He sighed, content to linger in whooshing, bubbly darkness for the rest of his natural life. His dick floated, bobbing up from his groin, lapping against his abs with the flow of the water.  
   
As the heat of orgasm started to fade, a shiver rolled over Chris. The cold air no longer felt good, stinging its way up his nostrils and pinching between his eyebrows. The overcast day had turned full storm, and the snow-filled wind rubbed rashes against their exposed skin.  
   
“Time to go inside,” Victor said, reading it on Chris’ face.  
   
Chris reached for Yuuri, drawing him in and back to reality. “Come, you gorgeous stallion,” he tugged Yuuri’s arms as he stood up.  
   
Yuuri, hazy still, arched a brow. “Again?” He chuckled to himself. “Not even I’m ready for that yet, give me…” he rolled his eyes as though actually considering, “fifteen?”  
   
“You’ll be the death of both of us,” Chris shook his head. There was a moment of huddling at the edge of the tub, preparing to leap out of the water and bolt back for the door.  
   
“You two go first. I’ll be in in a moment,” Victor promised.  
   
“Ready?” Chris raised his brow at Yuuri.  
   
“Hai!” And Yuuri did an adorable cold dance, yelping as he hopped from foot to foot back into the cabin. Chris followed, snapping a towel towards his ass and sliding the glass door closed behind them.  
   
Once the pair was safely out of sight, Victor followed more leisurely, immune to the temperature only because he was up to no good. He smirked at the location of his hidden treasure, was just about to reach for the little mounds in the snow when he heard the purr of the snow vehicles that brought resort staff to and from the villas. Victor’s surprise for his boys was not for public consumption, no matter how professional the staff might be. He latched his towel around his waist and walked in, just in time to see Chris’ face fall as the wait staff held out a package.  
   
“From Andre Tanner, sir.”  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Made it! Thanks for joining us on our little Swiss adventure, and let us know if there's anywhere you'd like to see these guys wind up next.
> 
> OH! And imagine our delight when we found [The Thirsty One](https://twitter.com/TSiebenstein)'s [absolutely delicious and utterly NSFW](https://somethingyoirelated.tumblr.com/image/161477994786) depiction of this lovely group - and then discovered that they'd read our fic?! We were elated, so of course wanted to share the goods with y'all.

_Victor latched his towel around his waist and walked in, just in time to see Chris’ face fall as the wait staff held out a package.  
   
“From Andre Tanner, sir.”  _  
   
—  
   
A frigid gust of air roared past the open door. It assaulted the wooden walls and the dense beams of the rafters. Every inch of exposed skin in the cabin suffered its bruising kiss.  
   
Chris stood, silent, deaf, and dumb, looking down at the box in his hands. It was covered in air-mail stickers. His eyes, almost hopeful, darted to the date sent. Hope extinguished, it was clearly mailed after the breakup.  
   
The courier shifted from foot to foot, reminding Chris of his presence. He signed for the parcel and nodded the young man away.  
   
Silence settled on the room for a breath, then the rev of the staff vehicle sounded outside.    
   
“Son of a bitch,” Victor, instantly incensed, stormed over to the front door.  
   
Yuuri was there with equal speed. “Victor, anything could be in that box. It could be an apology gift,” he reminded them all, even though he didn’t quite believe it. His own anger he kept hidden. He’d just spent the last 20 minutes _inside_ Chris. He felt, at best, hyper-loyal, at worst, fiercely-protective. Like ‘I will cut a man’ protective. But for the moment, he thought his job was to stop his husband from cutting anyone.  
   
They both reached for the package in Chris’ hands, as though its toxicity might burn their friend. It needed to be disposed of immediately. Chris lifted it away from them.  
   
“No.” He ordered, quiet and intense. The single word stilled both of his friends. Husbands exchanged a look, agreeing silently to follow Chris’ lead and not commandeer the situation, as much as they wanted to help. They returned their attention to their poor bereft friend. Chris swallowed, fingers curling - in pain, anger, or both - around the edges of the box. He wet his throat one more time and closed his eyes before speaking around a sigh: “He’s not a son of a bitch. He’s just… seventeen.”  
   
Victor hissed, as though scalded. Yuuri whistled and clenched his eyes shut, looking down.  
   
“Don’t start,” Chris growled, pushing past them both. Neither Yuuri or Victor meant their involuntary noises to sound deprecating of Chris, or his choice to date such a young man. But, of course, Chris had been berating himself about the fact again and again since the breakup - even before. The sound of their shock and displeasure did nothing to help his composure.  
   
Chris set the present on the kitchen counter, one hand resting lightly atop it. His other hand clutched the edge of the counter hard enough to dig painfully into his palm.  
   
“ _Dent de lion_ ,” Victor began with his most silver voice, taking a cautious step forward.  
   
“I said don’t start.” They watched Chris’ shoulders roll and square. Yuuri reached for Victor. The husbands held hands to attempt to comfort one another, since they could do nothing at the moment for their birthday boy.    
   
The kitchen drawers were stocked with utensils, and Chris withdrew a knife, making quick work of the packaging tape that lined the perimeter. It was a shirt-box style package, a top that would lift away from the base. For a long moment, Chris just drummed his fingers on the lid, debating whether it was more upsetting to know or not to know.  
   
And then he lifted it off.  
    
A hundred tattered memories lay inside: Chris’ photographs, taken on old black and white film and developed in his own dark room. All one-of-a-kind images of the couple, or of Andre, that he’d gifted to his ex over the course of their relationship. There were sweet pictures and scandalous pictures, innocuous candid faces intermingled with salacious lips and seductive grins.  
   
All torn to shreds and shipped back to their creator.  
   
Even from a distance, Victor recognized the contents. Chris had taken enough of Victor, during their various flings, and all of them Victor had cherished - continued to cherish, even as their relationship had changed and evolved and expanded.  Victor’s knuckles cracked when he clawed them into Yuuri’s fist. How could anyone be so cruel? The least he could have done was mail them back in tact.  
   
Chris brushed his fingers through the shreds like a child searching through sand, but there was nothing else: no note, no apology, only the ruined remnants of Chris’ care.  
   
Yuuri squawked at the pain of Victor’s vice grip. He didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t quite see the contents of the box from his angle, or his reaction would have mirrored, if not exceeded, his husband’s.  
   
Chris had gifted Yuuri two pictures. The first he’d received at the reception, a picture of Victor at the Sochi banquet, gazing out of frame with wonder, longing, and a virginal blush. ‘He’s looking at you,’ Chris had explained, before expressing his amazement that he’d managed to capture _anything_ at his level of intoxication. The second Chris sent after the reception, taken there: Victor and Yuuri asleep, side by side, an unintentional heart formed by their cuddled, facing bodies.  
   
Every photo captured something beautiful beyond the black and white emulsion: an emotion or dynamic preserved.  
   
But Yuuri couldn’t see any of them, and so his only information was the anger emanating off the pair in waves.  
   
“Guys, um…” he choked, scratchy. He was still thoroughly dehydrated, one of the unfortunate side effects of hot tub sex. He gestured toward the couch with one hand and tugged Victor that way with the other. “C-can,” he coughed, “Can we all sit down for a moment?” He thought perhaps this called for some sitting and talking, or, barring that, snuggling in silence. Maybe he could listen without losing his own cool again? He inhaled and exhaled slowly. He could do this.  
   
When neither of them moved, Yuuri looked at his husband, really looked. Victor was positively seething, his fists clenching and unclenching the open air in absence of Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri made his way to the counter and Chris. And he finally saw what was in the box.  
   
Yuuri straight up started crying.  
   
It wasn’t just the horror of original, loving artwork being destroyed. He was already wrecked with emotion from the day’s activities, of loving Chris’ body and soul, only to see it shattered. And now both his men were so overwhelmed that neither could move, speak, respond.  
   
His tears snapped the other two out of it, though, like breaking glass.    
   
They careened toward Yuuri, but he dove out of their way.  
   
“How could he do that to you?!” Yuuri felt his own heart wrenching. He’d talked and joked and laughed with Andre on several long nights of group chatting. He thought this guy was cool. Quirky, but cool. He’d been planning to… what? Potentially share his husband with him this weekend?? The thought reviled Yuuri so deeply now that, combined with the dehydration, he sincerely thought he might throw up.  
   
When he swayed, he let Victor catch him and hold him close. Chris, not knowing what to do with his hands, exhaled and leaned atop the pair, forcing a group hug they all very much needed. They both felt the wetness of Chris’ tears, finally freed thanks to Yuuri going first, in their hair.  
   
Victor held an inward smile deep in his heart, counterintuitive to the scene around him. On and off the ice, his husband was the best at expressing what everyone in a room was feeling.  
   
“I’m so sorry, Chris,” Victor huffed, deflating in the arms of his men.  
   
Chris just shook his head, chin raking its way over both of their scalps.  
   
Yuuri sniffled and hiccoughed and Victor realized how light-headed he felt just then. He guided Chris’ arms around Yuuri as he untangled himself to collect waters for them all.  
   
“Sit, sit, sit,” he cooed, ushering the pair to the couches, like Yuuri had tried to do. When they were seated - Yuuri leaning on Chris, legs curled to his chest, Chris with his head rolling back onto the spine of the couch - Victor handed them each a bottle of water. “Drink it down. Now. Both of you.” And, by way of example, he fell into Chris’ other side and swallowed his entire bottle in what felt like a gulp. He’d have to get them all more, but at the moment, his body was leaden and far too heavy.  
   
The group snuggled silently, both Yuuri and Victor holding loosely to Chris, _there_ for whatever he needed, present and listening and trying not to think of the box on the counter.  
   
They’d have to do something about that.  
   
Eventually the chill caught up to them, all still naked from the hot tub with only towels to protect them. Victor rose, pulled the giant duvet from the bed, and laid it out across the pair. Before joining them, he fussed with the fireplace. He wasn’t particularly _good_ at figuring out this sort of thing, which was convenient, because Chris needed something to make him smile.  
   
By the time Victor returned to the couch, ego bruised but fire roaring, Yuuri and Chris had both laid down. Victor sat such that Chris could put his head in Victor’s lap, then eased his fingers into Chris’ curls, swirling soothing patterns against his scalp. The flames mesmerized all of them, dancing endlessly atop the logs, the heat far enough away to feel like sunshine.  
   
Chris responded to the last thing said by anyone, even if it was some time ago.  
   
“No, Victor, _I’m_ sorry,” he sighed, mournful.  
   
“Hey…this isn't your fault,” Victor soothed, fingers shifting from swirls to soft pets.  
   
“No. I shouldn’t have brought Andre into the trust we’d built here between us; I knew he wasn’t mature enough for this.”  
   
Yuuri flexed his arms at Chris’ midsection. He swallowed. He didn’t want to say anything hurtful, but the very idea that he or Victor may have shared a bed with someone like Andre still seared his eyelids and prickled his skin with disgust. He inhaled and finally settled on, “Why keep it from us?”  
   
Chris’ sigh moved through them all. “I don’t know… maybe I knew.” Chris shook his head. “I just didn’t want to believe it.”  
   
Yuuri nodded his head, cheek rubbing up and down Chris’ ribs. Victor reached down and began petting Yuuri’s hair as well. Giving affection always soothed his nerves.  
   
Silence settled before the fire again. The sigh of flames consuming, pops and cracks of wood giving way, filled the void left by Andre’s gift. The howl of the storm outside answered their small fire, as if Father Winter knew there was life-giving warmth inside that could so easily be extinguished if not for the cabin walls. All three men shared the serenity that came with watching lengths of wood shine red, then orange, then white before crumbling into the hypnotic ripples of flame.    
   
“.... we could burn it,” Chris mumbled.  
   
They weren’t quite sure if he was serious at first.  
   
“You sure you don’t want to try and salvage any?” Yuuri’s voice sounded wet with emotion.  
   
Chris’ voice was stony, masked. “These were his. Gifts.” He snorted. “I never thought I’d see them again anyway.”  
Victor huffed a rough exhale through his nostrils, frustrated still. His mind flipped through his original itinerary for today. Where would they have been when the storm started? How long might they have stayed away from the bungalow and its depressing delivery?  
   
Yuuri disentangled from Chris and stood to retrieve the box from the counter. He quickly slapped the lid on to avoid the destroyed memories inside. He shuddered his bare shoulders, like the box brought a chill with it. He couldn’t feel the fire anymore over here.  
   
Curling angry fingers around the edges, Yuuri tiptoed on frosty feet back to the couch and handed the package to Chris. Chris sat up, squaring his shoulders, and took the box in one hand to his lap. His other hand was a fist, pulsing tension that dug fingernails into his palm.  
   
Victor took that nervous fist in both of his own hands, enveloping long fingers over tense, bunched knuckles. He gripped tightly with his lower hand and stroked softly with his upper. “ _Mon ami… dent de lion…_ ”  
   
Chris swallowed. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” He rapid blinked. “What do you think? All at once? Just toss it in?” He looked side to side, one to the other. Neither wanted to speak. Chris read it on their faces that this was his decision.    
   
After several minutes of silence, Chris took the lid off the box and threw it in the fire. “Maybe a bit of both?” The lid was light and fluttered somewhat frighteningly above the flames, lifted by the heat, as though it might sail out onto the wooden floor. A dextrous flame caught its corner, made it burst, and it fell, heavy with the weight of its own destruction, onto the topmost log.  
   
Yuuri exhaled. He’d been about to dive for something to rake up the flaming lid, if necessary.  
   
Chris lifted a handful of pieces that showed nothing significant whatsoever and tossed them at the fire. Then he seemed to organize the box between meaningful shards and chaff. The latter he tossed casually, letting Yuuri and Victor join him, and there was something satisfying about watching the scraps wisp up and down in the draft of air, only to curl into blackness.  
   
When they were gone, he looked through the mess of recognizable memory bits.  
   
“This one…” Chris fingered a scrap, a slice of Andre’s face, contorted into a silly smirk, pillow behind him. “Do you know what he did the first time I took him to bed, Victor? He just stripped down and laid out flat.”  
   
“Like me!” Victor beamed.  
   
Chris snorted. “Exactly like you. Maybe that’s why it did me in.” He shook his head, tossing the scrap into the flame, and when that didn’t work - it was too small, fluttering back to the ground before it made it - Chris took the ash shovel and put the scrap in that, dumping it atop the logs.  
   
“Ah, _merde_ ,” Chris cursed, wiping at his eyes. Victor kissed Chris’ cheek.  
   
“He looks proud of himself here,” Yuuri said, holding out a different scrap. Chris took it and gave a little shake of his head.  
   
“That idiot,” he said, but it had a lingering fondness. “I took him to a store and he picked out this toy that was way too big for him.”  
   
“Like _Princess_?” Yuuri raised his eyebrow, the image of Victor’s infamous dildo burned into his memory.  
   
Chris blushed. “... yeah. Exactly like that, actually.”  
   
A silence settled over the trio, Victor flushing as they all came to the same realization at the same time.  
   
“.... well… I guess I have a type, don’t I?” Chris finally snorted.  
   
Yuuri wasn’t expecting that. The surprised noise he made, like a raspberry sound with his lips, was a laugh that snuck up on him and puffed his cheeks. He slapped his hands over his mouth, because he didn’t think it right to laugh at Chris’ pain.  
   
But a moment later Victor outwardly guffawed and clapped Chris’ shoulder blade once, twice, and it turned into a one-armed hug. Yuuri’s muffled laughter behind his hands continued and he leaned into Chris’ other shoulder.  
   
Chris’ chest rocked, like he was going to laugh; his eyes still stung with the smoke and the tears. He swallowed his laughter, though, not quite there yet, but let the men hug him as he tossed the bottom of the box and its remaining contents into the flames. Then he hugged himself, hands worming underneath the hands of his friends, head hanging low to his chest.     
   
Yuuri kissed Chris’ hair, petting and stroking him. “It’s over, Christophe,” he soothed. “And you’re not alone. We’re here with you.” He kissed again and again.  
   
“That’s right,” Victor chuckled, “with plenty of time for more fun-filled activities!” Perhaps now was not the moment to bring up the stacks of tickets he’d acquired for tomorrow.  
   
“You better be talking about sex,” Chris groaned.  
   
Victor batted innocent eyelashes.  
   
“Is that a request, _dent de lion_?”  
   
Chris made a noise in this throat. “There’s only one issue.”  
   
The pair leaned forward.  
   
“... my ass is _so damn sore_.”  
   
—  
   
Chris toyed with his camera bag and equipment, the three of them having taken some time to decompress, shower, and settle in to resort robes and pre-heated slippers. Yuuri was messing with the ice maker in the fridge; he had a series of bottles laid out on the counter and the sound of rattling ice reminded Victor of his earlier mission. With his men preoccupied, he stepped warily out onto the porch.  
   
The storm had subsided, though the sky was still ominous. Freshly fallen snow had covered the holes where Victor’s dildo and plugs had landed, but he could still see where they were from the indentations. The uneven dips looked oddly like a smiley face, and Victor, without thinking, offered a wink of his own.  
   
Now the only issue was retrieving them. He dreaded sticking his fireside-warmed hand into the snow after them and looked around for a shovel, or anything, really.  
   
A beer stein saved the day. Victor had a moment to feel a twinge of shame as he crouched. He was naked but for his robe, which draped open on his squat and exposed his crotch to the frigid air, making him shiver and wonder about hypothermia. All this, of course, happened while digging two plugs and a dildo from a pile of slushy snow with a fancy mug. He pinched each prize free of its icy tomb with only two fingers, burning with cold by the third one, and deposited all three of them, awkward and precarious, into the stein. Triumphant, he pranced into the house before his toes turned blue.  
   
Yuuri was tasting a mixed drink concoction of some sort and didn’t seem to have noticed Victor’s prolonged absence.  
   
Chris was in the kitchen now, too, with the blender on, no doubt mixing his famous Magic Merlins. Victor nodded to him and gestured towards the bathroom with his free hand, careful to keep the mug and its contents behind his hip, partially obscured by the angle of his body.  
   
Safely ensconced in the only private space in the cabin, Victor preened in the mirror, toweled off  his prizes, and set down his stein. Damn. He forgot the lube. He looked around the bathroom. Certainly he, Victor Nikiforov, thought to stash some in here when they first arrived? He opened the one cabinet, then felt around the window sill above the shower. Well. No matter. He wet his lips, sucked two of his favorite fingers and reached around to slide them between his cheeks and scissor himself open. He found himself only a touch raw from Chris earlier and decided he was the most clever lover in the world, because this frozen plug would help to numb the area anyway. His own internal moisture mixed with his saliva as fingers invaded and stretched the cavity. Good enough. He continued playing with himself with one hand while the other acquired his favorite plug. It was purple and shaped like a long, skinny pine cone with no needles, smooth and perfect. The soft point was rounded and gentle, the flare at the end just wide enough, but nothing crazy. It was a comfortable plug. And perfect for the freezer.  
   
His two fingers slid out and he made a V with them, opening himself up for the frosty tip of the toy. The moment it touched his reddened skin, Victor sighed with relief. The flesh of his hole recoiled away from the sudden chill at first, but as he softly prodded the toy inside, he felt the cold web its way through his innards until he swore he felt it in his tailbone. His cheeks fluttered as he stretched further to engulf the flare and seat the toy comfortably. It was _so_ cold! The soreness he’d felt when he fingered himself, the one spot that had seemed raw, felt nothing now but a pleasant, numb throb. His insides swaddled the thick ice, whose gentle chill melted through his undercarriage. His balls tightened, perineum twitching. Victor’s limp dick jumped once or twice with it and he smiled at himself in the mirror.  
   
When he stepped out of the bathroom, his men were exchanging their creations. Victor got there just in time to see Yuuri’s nose and lips curl up at the heaviness of Chris’ typical high alcohol content Merlins. He smiled: his husband was so damn cute.  
   
“Are you still sore, _dent de lion_?” Victor cooed without preamble, brandishing his stein and jiggling its contents. “I have just the thing to help you feel better.”  
   
“Victor!” Yuuri scoffed.  
   
“What? You both got to make a drink.” He clinked his stein with each of their glasses.  
   
“Just how is _more_ sex going to help our poor hunk?” Yuuri asked.  
   
“Touch them,” Victor encouraged. “Go on. You too, _dent de lion_.”  
   
Chris gave Victor his ever-so-familiar long-suffering look and touched the dildo at the same time as Yuuri. They had similar expressions of surprise, which Victor savored, before tugging on both of their robes’ waist ties.  
   
“If you’ve never tried it before, there’s nothing more soothing,” Victor assured. “I started with ice cubes, but they’re quite intense, and sometimes they… mmm… get lost.” He blushed.  
   
“How many things have you lost inside yourself, Baby Bee?” Chris shook his head.  
   
“Too many,” Victor sighed.  
   
“Worst part is they’re messy,” Yuuri said without prompting. When both faces turned to him in surprise, he shrugged. “They melt. And, you know, _gravity_.”  
   
“Yuuri!” Victor beamed in delight. His husband huffed, arms crossing uncomfortably.  
   
“What?! Chris isn’t the only one who has… _feelings_ about ice,”  Yuuri muttered.  
   
“I’m disappointed I never thought of it, I admit,” Chris said.  
   
Victor rose up onto his toes, elated. “Come on, then! Let’s make mistakes together!” And he bounded to the bedroom.  
   
—  
   
“I call the small one,” Chris insisted as Victor set down the stein, only to turn his hands on Chris and that plush, delicious robe concealing his body. “And lots of lube.”  
   
Yuuri smirked. “Come to the bed, Chris. Lay down. On your belly, please?”  
   
“Aye, _Capitain_ ,” Chris complied, a shiver running the length of his spine as Victor whipped the robe off his body. He settled on the bed, legs spread and relaxed, chin resting on a pillow he hugged to his chest. Yuuri retrieved a wet rag and started to clean Chris between his cheeks. Once the area was satisfactorily wiped down, Yuuri bent over the body he opened.  
   
“Ooph!” Chris groaned as he felt Yuuri’s tongue slither into him.  
   
“Ooh, Yuuri, you never go that deep with me!” Victor chirped, kneeling beside them both. He pet at Yuuri’s hair, wiggling his excitement.  
   
Yuuri pulled back to smirk at his husband: “Next time I fuck you raw, I’ll owe you one.”  
   
“That better be a promise.”  
   
“Pinky swear,” Yuuri said, but instead of grasping Victor’s pinky he slid his hand between Victor’s body and under, wiggling that tiny finger into the crevice of Victor’s cheeks, tracing the stretched muscle clinging to the plug.  
   
“Pull it out,” Yuuri said. “I want to see you ride it.”  
   
Victor’s whole body twitched. “I _love_ when you get demanding.”  
   
But by then Yuuri’s head was buried back in Chris’ ass.  
   
“That makes two of us,” Chris sighed.  
   
Victor held the base with one hand, grabbing the wide curve and pulling it out of himself. He groaned as the cool silicon - rapidly warming from his innards - kissed the little bits of his muscle that were stretched anew by the girth.  
   
Yuuri had one eye on his husband’s ass, watching, and when he was satisfied with Chris’ wetness pulled back and grabbed the smaller plug.  
   
He timed it with Victor: as Victor lowered his weight back down onto that purple cone, Yuuri slid the pink head of the plug against Chris’ lubed asshole and pushed in at Victor’s pace.  
   
“Ohhhh… wow,” Chris muttered. He’d thought it would be unpleasant: the chill sharp, too bright in its temperature to be comfortable. Instead, his ass prickled for a brief moment at the first biting cold, then succumbed to its natural numbing touch. Getting fucked at the same pace as Victor made it that much more erotic, and Chris’ dick push eagerly into the covers.  
   
“You OK?” Yuuri asked, free hand pressing those bold dips where Chris’ glutes tapered into the small of his back.  
   
“Can you leave it in?” Chris asked.  
   
Yuuri had been slowly thrusting at the same time as Victor rode, but this time paused when Victor hilted and let Chris’ ass clamp around the plug’s neck.  
   
“That’s good,” Chris sighed. He shifted his hips back and forth, making the plug brush along his inner walls, spreading that icy comfort.  
   
“Your turn, Yuuri,” Victor smiled. Chris sat up, he and Victor each taking one of the tails of Yuuri’s waistband and pulling it free. As the fluffy fabric pulled open, it revealed their lover to be verifiably inhuman, an erection jostling comfortably against his pelvis.  
   
Victor uttered an exaggerated high pitched gasp. Then, a huge smile on his face, he teased with a demonstrative wave of his hand: “Put that thing away, you animal!”    
   
Chris chuckled and glanced back and forth between Yuuri’s ready body and the largest frozen toy of the three. Victor followed his gaze, snickering.  
   
“Well, it seems we’ve saved the best for last. You haven’t been fucked yet, today, dear Eros. Bend over.” Victor clapped twice, “Chop chop, hands and knees, Yurachka!” His coach’s voice barked.  
   
Yuuri positively giggled as he complied, taking a doggy-style position in the center of the bed. Victor wasn’t sure if he’d get hard enough to finish his husband himself, though he wanted to. He hadn’t topped anyone yet today. But that wasn’t the point; he’d just discovered his husband enjoyed ice play, and they’d never done it together before! He planned to enjoy this.  
   
Chris settled into one of the plush side chairs that, up to now, had only been used to hold luggage. He sipped the drink Yuuri made for him and prepared for a comfortable voyeur session. Rolling the ice cubes around the glass, he loved the duality of chilled fingers, the cold seeping into the palm of his hand, while the dildo inside continued to etch its icy fingers through his lower back. He took a longer, more languid swallow of Yuuri’s concoction.  
   
“Is this a sake bomb?” He asked the pair on the bed. His casual question broke the scene before him. Victor had decided he couldn’t trust Yuuri not to touch himself and this was to be  prolonged teasing play, so he’d fished some kinbaku rope out of their bag ( _mon dieu_ , Chris loved these two!) and was in the process of elegantly tying Yuuri’s arms behind his back. The younger man’s ass was still presented high above his knees, but his shoulders and face now pressed into the bed. Victor was re-tying a knot he’d deemed ‘not pretty enough’ on the first attempt. He still wasn’t quite practiced with the aesthetic aspects of kinbaku.    
   
Yuuri chuckled and turned his head so he could see Chris. “No, it’s a Highlander,” he looked bashful. “Well, it’s supposed to be named after the guy, but I can never remember his name.”  
   
“Duncan MacLeod?” Chris asked, taking a sniff of the drink.  
   
“Yeah,” Yuuri’s voice was breathy as Victor stroked a delicate hand over his spine from his neck, over his bound hands, down to trail fingertips lightly over his ass cheeks. “That’s it,” he purred, then swallowed, “I never saw the movies. It’s Scotch, sake, and cola. Do you like it?” His voice pitched on the end of the question as Victor touched the tip of the frosty dildo between his cheeks, only to have it disappear a moment later.  
   
“MmmHmm,” Chris responded to both the drink and the action on the bed.  
   
“You boys keep chatting,” Victor waved at them after he deposited the dildo back in the stein and carried it out of the room.  
   
Chris stood up to admire Victor’s handiwork. The knot was not as elaborate as some he’d seen online, but the pattern was certainly attractive and better than anything the Swiss man could have pulled off himself. “You’re a beautiful birthday present, _Capitain_.” Chris caught Yuuri’s eyes with a loving gaze. “All wrapped up in a pretty bow.”  
   
They heard a bevy of ice cubes being poured into the stein in the kitchen.  
   
“The drink,” Yuuri blushed. “It’s strong and stout…” he fidgeted his hands and wiggled his ass, bashful and prone under Chris’ appraisal. “Ju-just like you. I… it… seemed like the right drink.” And, overcome, he hid his face in the sheets.    
   
Chris hummed approval and patted one of Yuuri’s cheeks before returning to his seat just as Victor reappeared, jiggling and clanging the fresh ice around the dildo in the stein.  
   
“There, this will keep it cold for a while.” Victor announced and set the stein down on a side table. He withdrew a single cube. Victor crawled up on the bed and walked on his knees up to Yuuri’s side, facing Chris. “Yuuri,” he took his husband’s still-chubbed dick in his ice-less hand and squeezed, “I’m very hurt.” Still holding Yuuri and rolling his fingers along the shaft, he lifted the icy hand just above his husband’s back and squeezed it in his fist, shaking so the chilly droplets flickered along Yuuri’s spine.  
   
“Aaaiii!” Yuuri arched and shuddered and squirmed. Victor and Chris shared a smirk.  
   
“We’ve been married how long now,” Victor pouted and released Yuuri’s now throbbing erection, “and you never told me you liked to play with ice.” Victor pressed the melting cube into the divot at the base of Yuuri’s spine and as Yuuri pitched his torso down to the bed to retreat from the cold, he let it go to slide down Yuuri’s back, to his neck, and fall off over his shoulder. Yuuri’s gasps were close to sobs already, and they were just getting started. Victor gave him a breather as he fished another cube from the stein. Even just the rattling cubes sent Yuuri shivering.  
   
“You’re so sensitive all of a sudden.” Victor teased on his return.  
   
Maybe it was the booze, maybe the heartache that finally seemed to be dissipating in Chris’ chest, but when Victor bent slightly at the waist to press the new cube into Yuuri’s taint and hold his palm there as Yuuri yelped and moaned and squirmed, Chris wished he had a photo of them like this. He cleared his throat.  
   
“Would you two mind if…” somehow his brain conjured the smell of Andre’s ashes just behind them in the living room. He couldn’t quite finish the question.  
   
“I saw you setting the camera up, earlier, _dent de lion_ ,” Victor smiled, “go and get it, will you?”    
   
All Chris really needed was permission. He set his drink down and returned in no time with his equipment bag.  
   
“Open your mouth, love,” Victor was saying, on the other side of the bed now, offering something to his husband. Yuuri clenched his jaw shut for a moment, seeing the ice cube and not wanting its burn on his tongue, but Victor rubbed it gently like lipstick along his lips and Yuuri smiled in spite of himself.  
   
“Hai,” the word came from his throat as he opened up and took the cube over his tongue.  
   
“Suck on that for me. Good boy.” Victor stroked his hair.    
   
_click_  
   
Both faces turned to Chris when they heard the shutter and saw the flash. Yuuri’s eyes clenched shut and he blushed scarlet, though he wasn’t able to voice a protest around the large cube in his mouth. Victor peacocked a bit, looking so very proud. He met his friend’s eyes and saw the emotion there. Chris needed to take new pictures. Putting on a good show was the least Victor could do to help him heal. He practically danced to the bedside table and rattled the contents of the stein just to make Yuuri squirm.    
   
Because Yuuri was alone on the bed for a moment, Chris took the opportunity to set up a shot of him as a birthday present, with the lovely knotted pattern center frame. Yuuri’s perfect, hard little ass cheeks would take up most of the image at this angle, sure, but in Chris’ hands it would be tasteful, a work of art.  
   
Yuuri moaned and clenched and tried to say something around the cube in his mouth as the camera clicked several times.  
   
Victor let Chris capture as much as he wanted, Yuuri gorgeously lit by the soft, snowy light pouring in from the skylight. It cast alluring gradients all over Yuuri’s form, showing off every inch of that competition-season musculature. Victor knew, in a month, that Yuuri’s body would be plump with katsudon, a rounded pooch of a stomach that Victor could bury his face into and snuggle with and adore until he had to help Yuuri work it off for next season.  
   
But for now?  
   
For now, Yuuri’s body was a beautiful machine.  
   
Victor stroked Yuuri’s throat, coaxing him to swallow the last of the ice. When Victor’s finger pressed into Yuuri’s mouth, he felt the unfamiliar thrill of a cold tongue winding around his digit.  
   
“Oooh, Yuuri,” Victor grinned. He brought his finger out, rubbing the saliva against his thumb, and then turned his attention to the ice. This one he tucked into the rope, keeping it firmly against Yuuri’s wrists. The burn of the cube on his pulse point made Yuuri tug hard against the binds, and Victor was surprised by how well his rigging held up.  
   
For Victor’s next trick, he’d need a member of the audience. Well. Not really. But he wanted to invite their birthday boy to play. The Swiss’ drink was empty and although Victor was sure an entire roll of film would be used before the night was done, Yuuri’s position wouldn’t change much for the time being. Victor held out a welcoming hand to Chris, inviting him to get up on the bed. Chris set his camera down, curled his fingers into his old friend’s, and let himself be pulled into the scene.  
   
“His mouth feels amazing; you must try it!” Victor offered. He decided it was finally time to introduce the frozen toy to their festivities.  
   
Yuuri widened his legs and lifted himself up off his shoulders, kneeling and licking his chilled lips as he gazed at Chris. Chris stood on his knees in front of Yuuri, making sure Yuuri could stay balanced with his hands bound.  
   
Chris had never thrust into a cold mouth before. His dick’s first instinct was to shrivel away, the way cold normally affected it. But Yuuri’s tongue twirled and welcomed him in, and the chill mixed with the familiar wet was tantalizing. Combined with the rapidly thawing plug in his ass, Chris felt speared through by an icicle. It might’ve been uncomfortable, if not for the heat of the men around him.

And it was nothing compared to what Yuuri was about to feel.  
   
Victor had a firm grip on the frozen dildo’s base, lube already frosting its length. Yuuri’s ass clamped shut on instinct as it prodded his hole, but he was well enough bound - not to mention lubed - that he couldn’t have resisted if he’d tried. His cry vibrated into Chris’ cock as the frozen length slid into his ass. He thought Victor would let him sit with it, same as they had, but instead Victor thrust.  
   
“Mmph!” Yuuri groaned, unable to balance himself with his arms bound behind his back, the ice cubes melted into the rope, still cool.  
   
Chris caught his shoulders as Yuuri started to fall forward. Victor helped by grabbing the braided rope with one hand, stabilizing Yuuri, his other continuing to thrust and twist the frigid toy.  
   
Yuuri’s entire body quivered and shook, already overstimulated, though no one had touched his cock for several minutes. His ass was really too sensitive for its own good. The icy tendrils were relentless in their assault, never settling in comfortably anywhere, but stinging, then soothing, over and over. His body clenched so tight, too tight, around the toy as Victor pulled it back and forth. It would’ve been painfully tight, might even be sore tomorrow, but at the moment the toy numbed everything it touched in the most blissful way. He was still experiencing the fullness of its girth, the rocking of the fuck. He tried to give Chris everything he could translate of this pleasure with his mouth.     
   
Chris hadn't even thrust up to that point, because he didn’t need to. Victor was pumping Yuri enough that his mouth gave a great tug and pull on Chris without any effort on the receiving end. However, Chris was getting close now.  
   
“Hold still a moment,” he growled and Victor gave Yuuri some reprieve, which Chris took full advantage of.  
   
“Do you mind?” Chris asked as he held Yuuri’s cheeks and started to thrust into his mouth. Yuuri just groaned, holding still and letting Chris have his way. His jaw started to ache, Chris’ impressive girth somehow thickening as he reached that final stage of arousal, just before he burst. He couldn’t go deep; Yuuri gagged the first time Chris got close to the back of his mouth, but he was sucking with everything he had.  
   
“Should I --” Chris gasped.  
   
“No. Stay in. Give it to him,” Victor said, and the words sent Chris toppling over the edge. His fingers ruined Yuuri’s hair as he froze, bucking one last time into Yuuri’s mouth, shooting against his throat, the back of his tongue, and feeling the electric swallows as Yuuri drank it down.  
   
Yuuri coughed as Chris pulled off, tugged at his bound hands like he wanted to wipe the saliva dripping down his face. But he was still so damn needy. Horny.  
   
He looked back at his husband.  
   
While Chris recovered, lazy-eyed watching his lovers, Victor pulled the dildo out of Yuuri. He tested the length, found it warmed by Yuuri’s writhing body, and cast it aside. His fingers created deep valleys in the muscle of Yuuri’s ass as he squeezed that gorgeous thing in anticipation. Yuuri, too, realized what was about to happen and stared over his shoulder, licking his lips, humping his ass back towards Victor’s arching cock.  
   
“Victor,” Yuuri pleaded.  
   
As if Victor could ever, ever resist that sweet voice.  
   
He gave Yuuri’s ass another squeeze, dripped lube along the dark line of skin in the center, and teased with his finger. Every time Yuuri groaned in need and tried to push back onto it, Victor drew the digit away, tsking.  
   
“What did Chris say about patience?”  
   
“ _Victor_ ,” Yuuri stressed. He pulled on his bound hands again, and Victor congratulated himself on having the foresight to restrain his dear husband.  
   
Victor brought his cock to Yuuri’s ass, like he was going to comply, but instead of pushing it forward, into Yuuri, he let it slide up into the crack, grinding between those marvelous glutes.  
   
“VICTOR!” Yuuri finally screamed, both fists clenching behind his back. Victor’s delicate laugh sounded like tinkling glass, and Yuuri felt every tortuous second as Victor’s cock glided back down the valley, until the head was lined up with his hole once more. He trembled, every second that Victor waited feeling like the end of an era.  
   
He waited.  
   
Grit his teeth.  
   
And then, god, Victor _finally_ pushed into him.  
   
Yuuri hoped his sigh of relief wasn’t too needy. Victor had been so worked up since Chris announced the breakup, so worried about the trip being perfect, so stressed, that Yuuri hadn’t felt his husband inside for… over a week? Maybe even two? That couldn’t be right! But as Victor worked himself in and out, slowly, the first couple times, Yuuri realized how pent up his husband really was. The way his breath caught, the gravel and the _strain_ of it. Victor was trying his hardest not to go too fast, or to come too quickly. That tease hadn’t just been for Yuuri. Victor had been calming himself down so he wouldn’t waste himself the moment he made it inside.  
   
That, and he wanted to put on a show for Chris; Yuuri could feel it.    
   
Even though it built slowly, every thrust was testament to Victor’s restraint, and that restraint was fraying. Victor got into a rhythm of thrusting quick, then dragging himself back out agonizingly slow. Every time, that initial thrust got harder, went deeper. The smack of skin rose in volume over the popping fire and winter wind.  
   
And then something in Victor broke at the sound of Chris’ shutter. Yuuri knew, from the twitching way Victor’s grip tightened around his hip, that the well of Victor’s restraint had gone dry.  
   
Yuuri braced himself for the first savage thrusts, Victor riding Yuuri like a man who’d gone without. He half buried his face in the blankets, turned up only enough to breathe, with the side effect of seeing Chris’ pause, momentarily stunned, by the abrupt brutality of Victor’s hips.  
   
Or perhaps it was something else.  
   
Just like the first time Chris saw his best friend fuck Yuuri Katsuki, it was accompanied by that beautiful love in Victor’s overwhelmed sex face. Despite the lustful, hungry contortion of those chiseled features, a softness in his eyes and lips shone through like daybreak.  
   
_click_  
   
Chris was angry at himself for not having the good sense to bring his camera to the bedroom after the reception -- well, not until after the fun was over. He wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.  
   
The sound of the camera compelled Victor, the eager exhibitionist sprung to life. His body took Yuuri’s like he was born to do it, grabbing that beautiful red rope binding his husband’s wrists and using it like reins.  
   
At first, Yuuri loved every second of it. He was overcome, lost in the joy of taking his husband’s wrath. The clicks and flashes faded into white noise. Then, as the emotionality of this fuck was replaced with bone-searing physicality, Yuuri’s mind began to visualize how each image must look: every click, every flash. Chris’ attention to detail was not lost on Yuuri. Soon, he couldn’t concentrate on the pleasure he was feeling. Yuuri knew his... well... their _connection_ was on full display for Chris' dancing shutters.  
   
"Chriss-suu," he stammered on the vibrations of Victor, who slowed at Yuuri’s tone. Chris looked up and met the younger man's eyes. Yuuri blushed. "Don't take so many pictures, p-please?"  
   
Victor stroked the curve of his husband from shoulder to hip, fingers rolling over ribs and pausing at the dip of his hour glass waist, again and again. “What are you afraid of, love?”  
   
Yuuri didn’t want this to be a conversation. He just wanted the pictures to stop and the sex to continue. He wasn’t aware of Chris’ process, of the secrecy of his craft. Before his mind’s eye danced only the images of his junk red and ruined, his face slutty, dirty with sweat, snot, saliva, and a coat of semen in his cheeks and throat. He saw these things with the glow of a monitor or phone screen. He swallowed, shook his head, tried to erase these thoughts. He imagined Victor’s hand wiping it all away.    
   
Victor draped over him, still stroking his side, loving and low in his ear: “Chris’ film is all physical, developed in his own dark room. No digital anything, ever. No copies. No recreations.”  
   
Chris smiled, hearing this reassurance. “I have just as much to lose by any of my images going public as you do, _mon capitain_ , and take that very seriously.”    
   
Yuuri was breathing heavy, coming down from the edge of almost panic. But he hadn’t toppled over. They’d pulled him back in time and he was so grateful he melted, soft and sweet and muttering Japanese appreciation, beneath the eyes of his lovers.  
   
Victor considered pulling out, but Yuuri pulled him in. He clenched and then rolled his hips, grinding a sound from Victor’s throat that gave him confidence enough to ask:  
   
“What do you like about these photos, Chris?”  
   
“Your body, Yuuri,” Chris cooed, “you take Victor so well. You stretch around him, pull him in; you’re so beautiful.”  
   
“He’s right, love,” Victor groaned, sliding in and out, rising up to a position where he could reignite his rhythm. Several thigh-stinging thrusts later, he gasped, “I’ve never had anyone like you!”  
   
“You fit so well together, look so delicate but strong under Victor.” Chris smiled and snapped another picture from the side, a profile where you couldn’t see any of the goods, but the sex act was obvious, nonetheless. “Even the shade of your skin, Yuuri, it compliments his beautifully.”  
   
“Hmmm,” Victor hummed agreement. Thrusts growing needy and fast again, the inside of Yuuri goading and squeezing him, he splayed his fingers on Yuuri’s bobbing spine to see the effect Chris mentioned. “Hnnn, he’s right, Yu-uuri. I can’t wait to see these pictures.” And he hummed again, like a man with fine chocolate melting on his tongue.  
   
Yuuri lapped up their praise like milk, answered with the sound of a lioness purring. He arched his back into Victor’s torso, the knot of his bound hands pressing painfully just under Victor’s ribcage.  
   
“Untie me,” Yuuri whispered. “Please.”  
   
“Don’t touch yourself,” Victor warned, pausing his thrusts, reaching for the release rope but waiting until Yuuri confirmed.  
   
“Promise,” Yuuri panted, and with a tug the tension around his wrists dissipated, Victor freeing the rope to fall away until he could cast it aside. “ _Yes_ ,” Yuuri groaned.  
   
With the impressive strength of his lower body, Yuuri’s legs and ass pushed Victor upright, while keeping himself seated on Victor’s cock. He reached his hands behind Victor’s head, one clutching the silver hair and one clawing pink streaks in a pale white shoulder. He needed to _touch_.  
   
Yuuri, in full control despite being in front of Victor, somehow managed to take the initiative and fuck himself back onto Victor’s cock, both still kneeling upright. In another stunning display of athleticism, the men’s free skate world record holder rode his choreographer and coach, thrusting himself onto his husband almost entirely from his calves and toes. The only other leverage was the lifting power of his abs and the pull of his arms latched onto Victor’s disbelieving skin.  
   
_click_  
   
Chris briefly wished for the digital power to capture dozens of photos in rapid succession. He got the first angle just right: Victor’s shocked expression caught between the twin triangles of Yuuri’s bent arms. Next, he was on the bed with them, coming around the front, to look down on the display of Yuuri’s body, curved cock dancing on those hard-working abs as he rode Victor for all he was worth, mouth hung slack-jawed, eyes delirious, but looking _right at_ the camera. Fuck!  
   
Heaven only knows how Victor didn’t come twice or three times during this display.  
   
But despite all evidence to the contrary, Yuuri was not a machine and the burn in his muscles started to slow his rise and fall. Victor was ready. He hugged his arms around Yuuri’s chest and pummelled him from behind with the last ragged thrusts necessary to spill deep and heavy into his husband.  
   
Chris didn’t even bother trying to catch the moment when Yuuri came. He wanted to see it with his own eyes, not the detached window of his camera. It was as beautiful as he remembered, as vulnerable and overwhelmed, and at the end of it Chris’ soft clicks captured the aftermath.  
   
His hands would smell like vinegar for weeks from developing all their film.  
   
The three half-collapsed together on the bed, everything beyond the bungalow forgotten. Time passed. Room service came and went. Touches and kisses filled the seconds, minutes, hours.  
   
“Thank you,” Chris murmured, some unknowable stretch of time after they’d curled up, dozed, drifted. He was between the pair, Yuuri snuggled to one side, Victor on the other, and both shifted as he spoke so they could see his eyes.  
   
“Happy Birthday, _dent de lion_ ,” Victor smiled, kissing Chris’ sweet wet lips.  
   
“Not that we really need an excuse to love on you,” Yuuri murmured. “But it doesn’t hurt.”  
   
Yuuri brushed his fingers over the soft wisps of hair on Chris’ chin, thoughtful and considerate.  
   
“How do you feel?”  
   
“Besides sore?” Chris chuckled. “Lucky,” and he exhaled a breathy sigh. “How many people get dumped right before their birthday and instead wind up in a threesome with two gorgeous men?”  
   
“Sounds like something Christophe Giacometti could pull off,” Victor grinned. “He’s quite miraculous, you know.”  
   
“He even taught Victor Nikiforov, _somehow,_ ” Yuuri teased his husband.  
   
That got a laugh out of both Chris and Victor, and Chris hugged the latter tightly, kissing his forehead. “You know that’s not even true any more. I just got him through some uh… rough patches.”  
   
“I’m sorry I -”  
   
“Don’t,” Chris squeezed Victor quiet. “I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.” He went quiet for a beat, running his fingers through Victor’s hair, down Yuuri’s back. “Same with these.”  
   
The ache of his ex still throbbed, but this strange mix of friendship and intimacy was a far more potent salve. Lovers came and went for Chris, but his friends?  
   
He lifted his phone up over the pile of smiles and limbs.  
   
_click_  
   
His friends he’d keep forever.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [DKLA](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279375) by [ShoeUntied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShoeUntied/pseuds/ShoeUntied)




End file.
